by Tara Sue Me
“This is about that couple, isn’t it?”
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I should have realized they’d be there and mentioned them to you. When I saw them the first time, I should have said something.”
“Who are they?” She reached up and smoothed her hands over my hair. I hadn’t realized I’d been pulling at it.
“After Melanie and I split,” I said. “Well, after I broke it off with her, I dove back into the scene hard-core. I hadn’t played in more than six months. I was anxious to get back.”
She nodded. “I can understand that.”
“Gwen and I met at a party. Gwen’s the woman with Nicolas,” I said. “I never collared her. We never made it past the test weekend.”
“Why?”
“She needed more than I could give.”
She tilted her head. “Like Melanie?”
“No,” I said, then whispered, “More pain.”
I felt guilty remembering how Jackson asked me if I knew of any available women my first weekend with Abby and how I’d joked with myself about giving him her name.
“Oh,” she replied in her own whisper.
“Everything with her was always green. She always wanted more,” I said. “And I couldn’t do it. It’s like the breath play—I know my own limits. I know how much pain I’m willing to inflict and what I can’t.”
She nodded. “And Nicolas?”
“Obviously gives her what she wants,” I said. “Which is fine. He’s an asshole, but he’s not abusive. His remark about playing with you was inappropriate, however. I’ll think about how to handle that later.”
She snorted. “I’d agree with you on the asshole part.”
“I’d like for us to talk later about when play borders on or becomes abuse,” I said. “I think it’s an important topic.” I thought for a second. “Maybe have an open-forum-type discussion at the next meeting.”
“You mean when someone asks for something that’s dangerous?” she asked. “Is that what Gwen did to you?”
“She didn’t ask for anything dangerous,” I said. “Just more than I was comfortable doing. Which is why it’s important to know your limits, both as a dom and as a submissive. I knew how far I was willing to go. I don’t so much see it as failing with her. We were just incompatible. I should have known it wouldn’t work out. I gave more stringent guidelines to Godwin after Gwen.”
“But seeing me standing next to Nicolas?”
I closed my eyes briefly and nodded. “Yes. I think it was what he said: ‘When you can’t be what she needs either.’”
“Oh, Nathaniel.”
“I think it just played upon my old fears,” I said. “Made me upset, and I couldn’t get into the frame of mind I need to be in to play.”
“You didn’t actually think I’d leave you for Nicolas?”
“Hell, no. That never once occurred to me.” I smiled for the first time in hours. “Progress, yes?”
“I’ll say,” she said. She smiled so big I couldn’t help but lean down and kiss her. “Mmm,” she said. “What was that for?”
“For loving me,” I said. “For putting up with me. For trusting me.” I pulled back, feeling a little better since we’d talked about everything. “I should never have told you to go into the playroom.”
“You stopped though,” she said. “You didn’t let it progress.”
“I let it progress enough, and for that I’m sorry.”
“You gave me safe words for a reason. Now I see why.”
“Why did you yellow?”
“Everything felt off,” she said. “Not quite right after the party. Then, when I recognized it was a different flogger and it felt harder, I just needed to slow everything down. Get to where I needed to be.”
I stroked her back, reached down to cup her bottom. “Did I hurt you? Are you sore?”
“I’m fine,” she said. “Promise.”
“I love you,” I said, just needing to say the words.
“And I love you,” she replied, probably knowing how much I needed to hear the words.
“So, Gwen?”
“What about her?”
“You two played?”
I shrugged. “Not for long, but yes. Does it make you uncomfortable seeing submissives I’ve played with?”
She wrinkled her brow in concentration. “It’s weird, but not uncomfortable. I know you had submissives before me.”
“That’s different from seeing them.”
“Yes, but it’s still the same. I know your past. I love your past, actually. It’s what made you, you.” She took my face between her hands and looked deeply into my eyes. “And you, all of you, past, present, everything, are the man I love.”
I held her gaze. “You may not have been my first submissive,” I said. “But I swear by all I hold holy, you’ll be my last.”
She leaned close, preparing to kiss me. “I’d better be.”
Her lips were soft and gentle on mine.
Exactly what I needed.
Chapter Twenty-seven
—ABBY—
As he worked the rope around my upper left leg, I thought back over the last few weeks and what had happened since the night we both safe worded.
He’d refused to recollar me that night. Instead, we went to bed and slept wrapped in each other’s arms. I still recalled the way I drifted off to sleep with his leg draped almost protectively across my thigh. The next morning, we talked more about Gwen and Nicolas and even Mary. By midmorning, we both felt calmer and more relaxed, so we agreed together that I would wear his collar for the rest of the day.
I felt more connected with him after that night. I’d known, of course, that he would slow down or stop if I safe worded, but somehow experiencing it reconfirmed just how much I could trust him. He said the situation did the same for him, that he felt better knowing I would safe word if I needed.
I went to the submissives group meeting, and Jonah was quick to introduce me around. In addition to the lifestyle knowledge I gained, I was surprised by the different feelings I had toward some members of the group.
Jonah was like my older brother, laughing and cutting up at times, protective and supportive at others. As one of the more experienced members, he was looked up to by everyone. I quickly learned that he and his mistress were both highly regarded in the community.
Nicolas’s actions had not gone unnoticed the night of the party, and according to Jonah, he had been asked to leave shortly after Nathaniel and I left and was told not to come back. Gwen was still welcome, though, and I was more than a little shocked to see her at my first group meeting.
She seemed an independent, self-assured type of a woman. I barely recognized her as the naked submissive who knelt at Nicolas’s feet. Even more shocking was the almost complete lack of anything I felt toward her, especially considering she’d played with Nathaniel.
The woman I felt the most jealous toward was Jen. When I thought about it, I knew it made no sense. Jen was in a committed relationship with Carter, had played with Nathaniel only a few times and only with Carter in attendance. Still, I suppose that’s how jealousy worked. It didn’t have to make sense. Especially when I knew Nathaniel felt nothing for Jen. For the most part I ignored it.
Toward Mary, I’ll admit, I felt a bit superior. I had what she wanted. Nathaniel was my master. Nathaniel was my lover. It was his collar I wore and his hands that guided and owned my body on weekends. She could send in her application to Godwin all she wanted. There was no way and no how he would ever be hers.
“Is there a reason for the vindictive-looking grin, Abigail?” Nathaniel asked, bringing me back to the business at hand.
“No, Master,” I said. I thought about sharing what I’d been thinking, maybe add in a bit of snarky attitude, but decided not to. There was a time and place for feisty, after all.
He raised an eyebrow. “Do we need to move to the whipping bench in order to settle your mind?”
Uh-oh. Definitely not the time for feis
ty. It didn’t escape my attention the way he used we. It would be my choice.
“No, Master,” I said, hopefully removing from my face any lingering traces of the smile.
He shot me a stern look before resuming his knot tying. We had spent time over the last few weekends (and one really enjoyable Wednesday night) working up to this point. One day he’d bound my chest with multiple ropes and knots; another day he’d bound my legs. The weekend would be a combination of them all.
Since he hadn’t told me not to, I closed my eyes and concentrated on his hands while he wound the rope around me. He worked methodically and slowly, taking the rope and winding it around the upper part of one leg before moving to the opposite one.
His lips trailed up my belly and he spoke in soft tones. “I bind you for my pleasure,” he said. “You’ll spend all day and night in the ropes.” He brushed a hand between my legs. “I’m going to place some knots here to tease you and you’re not allowed release until I give permission.”
Fuuuuck.
He kept right on talking. “I have a dress for you upstairs. You’ll wear it to Linda’s. No one will know or be able to tell what you have on underneath.” He chuckled low in his throat. “Or what you don’t have on.”
Something told me there weren’t panties laid out with the dress.
“I’ll put some quick-release hooks here,” he said, brushing right below my navel. “When you need to use the bathroom, you’ll have to ask me, and I’ll remove the rope between your legs.”
The picnic at his aunt’s house would be in a few hours. Everyone would be there. Due to our demanding schedules, the entire family hadn’t been together for nearly a month. I was looking forward to it.
Nathaniel placed a thin rope between my legs, making sure it rubbed me just so.
Looking forward to it for more than one reason.
“This is just the beginning,” he whispered.
“You look beautiful,” he said as we drove to Linda’s house.
“Thank you, Master.”
True to his word, the ropes were discreetly covered by the dress he’d picked out. Underneath, I had ropes around my upper thighs, my waist, and between my legs. He’d refused to let me wear a bra. Instead, red ropes were wound around my upper body, both above and below my breasts, with more rope in between. Though the dress was short-sleeved, a high turtleneck covered the rope that looped behind my neck in a halter-top fashion.
When I moved my arms just the right way, the tension of the ropes and the pull of the dress fabric against my exposed nipples caused my body to shiver.
“I think I’d like to listen to some jazz,” he said.
Yes, when I move just like that.
“Thank you, Abigail,” he said with a grin that told me he knew exactly what I was feeling when I changed the satellite radio station.
“No, Master,” I said as soft jazz filled the car’s interior. “Thank you.”
An hour later, I stood in the backyard talking with Linda and Elaina while Todd, Jackson, Nathaniel, and Felicia played an unevenly matched game of basketball. I’d gracefully declined joining in, especially since I had a dress on. Sports were not my favorite pastime, though playing with the ropes around my body would have made things interesting.
“Nathaniel told us you’re going to Florida next month?” Linda asked.
“Orlando, yes,” I said. “I’m looking forward to it. I haven’t had a real vacation in years.”
“Neither has Nathaniel,” Elaina said.
“I’m afraid this won’t be much of one,” I said. “It’s a finance conference, and he’s the keynote speaker.” We would check in on a Saturday and stay until the following Friday. I was looking forward to the trip as it would offer new ways to play.
“Just promise me you’ll get him out of his suit for a few hours,” Linda said. “He could do with a little rest and relaxation.”
Elaina leaned in and whispered, “I’m sure you’ll get him out of his suit for more than a few hours.”
I laughed. “I’m sure I will.” We’d be in Florida for weekday time as well as weekend time, and if I had my way, he wouldn’t be wearing his suit outside of the conference. He wouldn’t be wearing much of anything.
Linda shot her what was supposed to be a stern look, but she succeeding only in making us laugh louder. I loved the closeness of everyone. Loved how they’d welcomed both Felicia and me with open arms.
True to Nathaniel’s word, no one had been able to tell what I had on under my dress. I liked to think Linda didn’t know of our lifestyle. She’d never given either of us any indication she did, after all. Regardless, the two of us had grown close over the last few months, and I very much considered her a second mother.
Elaina was the sister I never had. Though she knew about my and Nathaniel’s relationship on a high level, she never spoke of it with me and, truthfully, that was the way I wanted it.
Jackson, I didn’t know about. Nathaniel told me he didn’t think he knew, so for the time being, I’d pretend he didn’t know. Felicia may have told him, but even if she had, he never treated me any differently than before.
I didn’t know the basketball game was over until I was surrounded by two very strong, very warm arms.
“Ugh,” Elaina said from beside me, pushing Todd away. He’d captured her in the same type of hug Nathaniel had me in. “You’re sweating.”
Mmm. Nathaniel.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“Yes,” I said, not adding the Master. We were too close to his family and they might overhear.
His arms pressed tighter around me, hitting the ropes just right. “Are you sure?”
I closed my eyes and leaned against him as a wave of desire swept through me. “Very.”
“You’ll let me know if anything becomes uncomfortable?” he asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“You’re doing great,” he whispered. He pulled away before I could respond. “Can I help you do something for lunch?” he asked his aunt.
“No,” she said. “Everything’s ready.”
Jackson walked up beside us and took the drink Felicia handed him. “Missed you playing with us today, Elaina.”
Elaina brushed imaginary lint from Todd’s shirt. “Apparently, they didn’t teach Todd in medical school that pregnant women could exercise.”
It took about four seconds for what she said to sink in, and then everyone spoke at once.
“You’re pregnant?”
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
“How long?”
Through it all, Elaina and Todd stood there, looking around at their family and smiling.
“I’m ten weeks,” Elaina said, once we all shut up long enough for her to get a word in. “We heard the heartbeat yesterday.”
Before Nathaniel and I could join the rest of the family in congratulating the parents-to-be with hugs, he slipped an arm around my waist.
“The tree house will be a lot more fun with nieces and nephews joining in, won’t it?” he whispered to me.
I turned my head to him, and our lips met in a soft kiss.
When we made it back to our house (it was still something of a shock to view the imposing mansion as ours), he told me to go upstairs and prepare his shower. It was a new type of command, but not an altogether unexpected one. He was still sweaty, after all, and in need of a shower.
By the time he took Apollo outside and made it up the stairs, I’d started his shower and set towels on the warmer bar. Because it just seemed like the right thing to do, I also stripped out of the dress. I couldn’t decide whether to kneel or stand, so when he walked in, I was still standing.
He glanced at the dress on the floor. “Everything okay, Abigail?”
“Yes, Master,” I said. He still had his clothes on. He looked delicious.
“Do you need to use the bathroom?”
Well, yes. Now that he mentioned it, I did.
“Please, Master.”
&nb
sp; He walked across the floor and quickly undid the rope between my legs. Not before taking the time to play with my exposed nipples, of course.
I moaned at the press of his thumb.
He laughed and gave me a swift smack on the ass. “Hurry up and make your way back here. I need your help.”
His bathroom was huge. During the weekend, I thought of it as his bathroom, even though evidence of my cohabitation was scattered around one of the vanities. On weekends, I usually used the bathroom connected to the submissive bedroom.
When I made it back to the main portion of the bathroom, he had undressed. I tried not to think about how he looked even more delicious undressed but failed miserably. He smiled as if he knew exactly what I was thinking.
Damn.
“Later, Abigail.”
Right. He’d said no release until he permitted.
Double damn.
He trailed his hands down my body, teasing and tickling as he worked the rope back between my legs. Standing so close to him, both of us naked, was a challenge in remaining still, but I managed to pull it off.
He hooked the rope back, gave my clit one last, soft caress, and whispered, “You’re doing such a great job.”
I shifted my legs, accustomed now to the pull against my body and the constant low-level tormenting tease of the ropes. “Thank you, Master.”
He smiled. “I’m ready for my shower.”
Oh, right. Shower.
I opened the door to the huge shower, checked the water to make sure it was the right temperature, and stepped back to let him enter. He breezed past me, and I wondered for a second if I should follow. I wasn’t sure. Surely I could get the ropes wet? It wouldn’t hurt anything, would it?
“Abigail?” he asked, standing just to the side of one of his overhead showerheads.
“Yes, Master?”
“I require your assistance,” he said. His voice was low and held just a hint of gruffness. The tease of the ropes increased a notch or two, but when I stepped into the shower, I forced myself to focus on him instead of my body.